I sat across from the Master in the quiet of the inner sanctum. The air was still, and for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel the weight of the world on my shoulders. I was done with weapons and hiding behind walls of concrete metal. It was time to use what I had learned here to protect the 17 families in a way that couldn't be broken by force.
"Master," I said, keeping my voice low and steady. "I need to learn how to craft runes intended for tattoos, a lock that lives in the skin and the blood. I fear there is someone who would attempt to clone my friend's descendants."
"I'm worried, master. I've seen what happens when the wrong people get a hold of a legacy. I'm afraid of someone who would clone the descendants of my friend. I want to make sure that doesn't happen. I want their blood to be theirs and nobody else's."
The Ancient One leaned back in his chair, a faint, knowing smile creasing his weathered face. He didn't lecture, he simply nodded, as if he had been expecting the question for a century or two. He poured himself honey tea inside a small chinese cup for both of us.
The Ancient One: "Always looking to be the shield, aren't you, James? Even for those who haven't been born yet."
The Ancient One: "It's a clever thought. Most people think of tattoos as decoration, but you and I know that the body is just a map. If you want to lock the blood, we use the Sanguine Cipher".
"It's an old trick, I haven't taught it to anyone in a very long time. It binds the genetic code to the individual's unique spiritual signature. It's like a biological 'handshake.' No spirit, no growth. The moment a cell realizes it's in a petri dish instead of a living person, it simply... goes to sleep."
"I'll show you the brushwork. It's delicate, and it'll require a bit of your own focus to set the intent. But it'll work. Your friend's family will be a closed book, no matter how many scientists try to read the pages."
We both know the arts of Kamar-Taj aren't meant for outsiders. But the Master and I have an understanding; he knows I won't misuse this knowledge. Using a Sanguine Cipher as a gene lock might seem extreme to some, but given the stakes, it was the only way. It was necessary.
For a year, I did nothing but use a brush to master the script, memorizing and deciphering every rune I could find. Eventually, I began applying my computer science background, treating the script like software, a password protecting the DNA. The Ancient One was impressed, I was using 'future' knowledge that shouldn't exist for another thirty years.
For the longest time, he suspected that I knew the future, as if I had already lived it. Yet, he never asked. He understood that if I spoke of what I knew, the timeline might shift. Respect is earned, after all, and trust has become our bond.
He noticed that I have become an avatar for another. After all, it has been fifty years since we last met, and much has happened on my journey. He predicted that even though I possess the power to rule the world, I would still choose to help others. Even now, he realizes I am here not for my own benefit, but for the sake of everyone else.
****
Over time, I continued to refine this craft until I was finally dubbed a Master of the Sanguine Script. I learned to use the chi in the air as a conduit, allowing me to manifest almost anything through the script alone. Its applications are limitless; it can be woven into anything, the human body included.
While the sorcerers of Kamar-Taj relied on Sling Rings to create portals, I used my chi as a conduit. By writing the script directly into the air and using my own energy as a battery, I opened a portal to Houston. Mastering this script alone took nearly five years of my life here.
Without warning, I was hit by a wave of intense weakness, as if my chi and lifeforce had simply drained out of me. My healing factor immediately kicked in to compensate. This was the first time I had ever felt this, mainly because I never had to exert my chi for more than a second or two. Usually, my punches were so fast that before anyone could react, they were already sprawling on the ground.
And the portal closed on it's own because it doesn't have enough energy to sustain it.
After a short while, the weakness disappeared, and I could feel my 'energy tank' had grown slightly larger. That's new, I thought. It seemed that the more I pushed my limits, the more my capacity increased. I wondered: if my chi ever became as vast as a swimming pool, could I eventually fly? I only came here to learn runic scripts, but I've gained something far more valuable.
Perhaps this kind of power-up was only possible for me. If a normal person tried to use it, I don't think they could survive the energy overdraft.
My master in the Tibetan monastery once said that human life consists of Yin and Yang, two sides of the same coin that never touch, yet always revolve around one another. While I haven't stopped meditating, I no longer feel the need to expand my chi or seek more power. Even though current threats seem small, I have enough strength to protect those around me.
What I have understood about Yin and Yang throughout my life is that it consists of two opposite sides, such as hot and cold, dark and light, and life and death.
I've recently been reflecting on the concept of emptiness and fullness: without being empty, one can never be full, and even when full, one is never truly empty. It makes my head spin to grasp even a sliver of this truth. Yet, this concept alone has made me a powerhouse in this world. After all, Yin and Yang are the source of chaos, and without chaos, nothing can ever be born.
I will come back to this in the future. For now, I want to go home and ensure my family is safe, but first, I must say my goodbyes to my master.
****
The air in the mountain monastery is thin and cold, scented with the familiar aroma of burning cedar and aged parchment. Your Master, the Ancient One, stands by the stone balcony overlooking the misty valleys of Tibet. He does not turn as you approach, he already knows what i came to do.
You bow deeply, the silent weight of your departure hanging in the air.
"Master," you begin, your voice steady but filled with respect. "I have come to bid you farewell. I must return home to ensure the safety of my family. The threats of the world may seem small compared to the vastness of what you have taught me, but I have enough power now to protect those I love."
The Ancient One turns slowly. His eyes, clear and deep like mountain lakes, study you. He sees the balance you have found, the understanding of the empty and the full.
"To protect is the ultimate expression of the chi you have cultivated," he says softly. "You seek to be the Yang to their Yin, the shield against the chaos. Remember, student: the coin still revolves. Power is not just the strength to strike, but the wisdom to remain still."
He places a weathered hand on your shoulder. "Go. Your path does not end here, it simply moves into a different valley. My lessons will remain with you, as empty as the wind and as full as the earth."
You bow one last time and open a portal to the airport. I still need to be cautious and maintain a travel record, after all. While Robin creates my new identity in this world, I still need a paper trail, I arrived in Kathmandu on foot, and if I were to simply disappear, it might alert someone in the future.
****
I didn't start the tattoo immediately. If it were too large, it might look strange, and people might mistake it for a cult symbol. I don't want that kind of attention, so I'm going to find Lily to discuss it with her first.
Our talk began as a simple reunion, catching up on life. She's pregnant now and needs someone to look after her restaurant. When I asked her about the best way to apply this kind of tattoo, she was initially confused, wondering why I'd want to mark everyone in town.
But when I explained that there are people who can clone others, she looked unsettled. The concept is so far removed from her reality that it sounds like something out of a dark fairy tale.
Lily stood frozen for a moment, her hand resting instinctively on her stomach. The silence in the restaurant was heavy, broken only by the distant hum of the kitchen.
"Uncle James..." she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "What are you talking about? Clones? That sounds like a nightmare."
"I know how it sounds, Lily. But in the world I've seen, DNA isn't enough anymore. If a clone can replicate your blood, your hair, and your breath, then your DNA is obsolete. This tattoo It's a lock that everyone are the key to prevent this."
You pointed to the tattoo design on the table. "This isn't just ink. Its function is to gene-lock the wearer. This tattoo is one way to make sure everyone DNA is never survive after it's left your body".
She looked down at the design, then back at you. The shock hadn't disappeared, but it was being replaced by a grim understanding. "You're trying to put a seal on our very existence."
"Essentially, yes it's a lock. But this isn't mandatory for everyone. I'm not a tyrant, baby girl. If they don't want it, I won't force them I'll let them make their own decisions. But I still want to give everyone a way out. Everyone here is my family, and that includes you and the baby you're carrying."
"Should they choose not to get the tattoo, I will simply find another means of protecting everyone. One way or another, I will keep them safe."
It dawned on Lily that her uncle had always put them first. All he had ever done was look after them. She recalled her mother saying that because Uncle James was different, he was essentially a prize to be captured and experimented on. They wanted what he had: a healing factor so powerful it kept him young even now.
Lily knew the truth of his grief, though. When she wrote to tell him her mother had passed, his reply arrived crumpled and stained with blood, a silent testament to his mourning. Her mother had been his first and best friend, a bond as deep as the one he shared with Uncle Hunter and Uncle Bob.
In exchange for everything he has done, he asked for only one thing in return, that we keep his existence a secret from the world. That is all he has ever wanted.
Lily looked at her uncle, really looking at him for the first time since his return. He looked exactly as he did in the old photographs her mother kept hidden in the floorboards, not a single gray hair, not a line of age on his face. He was a living miracle, and in this world, miracles were hunted.
"I remember what Mom told me," Lily said, her voice dropping to a whisper, as if the walls themselves might be listening. "She said you were a prize. That people would tear the world apart just to find out how you stay young, or how you heal."
James looked out the restaurant window at the quiet street of the town. "I don't want to be a prize, Lily. I don't want to be a powerhouse or a legend. I just want to be your Uncle James."
Lily reached out and took his hand. It was warm and steady, the hand of a man who could likely level a mountain, yet was currently trembling slightly with the weight of his own history.
"All you ever asked of us was one thing," she said, tears pricking her eyes. "To hide you from the world. To let you be a ghost so you could be a human with us. Mom and everyone kept that secret until her last breath. Hunter and Bob have guarded your name."
She squeezed his hand, her gaze turning fierce and protective. "The world doesn't deserve you, Uncle James. If you need to stay in the shadows to stay safe, then we will be the shadows. The town will keep the secret. I'll make sure of it. For you, and for the baby."
James nodded. In all his one hundred-plus years of life, he had done two things right: the first was when he left Victor, and the second was when he chose to live in this town.
"We will have a meeting with everyone in three months to talk about this. We'll make sure everyone understands why you want to do this. Is that okay with you, Uncle James?" Lily was one of many children in this town who grew up protected by her parents, her Uncle James, Uncle Hunter, and every adult in the community. Now, as an adult herself, she realized it was her turn to step up and protect Uncle James.
'Baby...' James's eyes shimmered, welling with tears. He was deeply moved by the solidarity of the town. This moment assured him that he hadn't made a mistake by choosing to live here. 'Thank you,' he whispered. He stood up and pulled her into a warm, protective hug.
'You'd better be careful calling me "baby," Uncle James, my husband might get jealous,' Lily teased. They both laughed, the sound cutting through the heavy atmosphere of their earlier conversation.
****
As I made my way back to the lab, a thought suddenly struck me: why was I so fixated on waiting for someone else to build the computer? Why wouldn't I just build one myself? After a quick slap to my forehead for not realizing it sooner, I sat down and got to work.
First, the silicon. Using my existing glass-making infrastructure, I gathered the raw materials I needed to manufacture the substrate for the computer boards.
The chips. I had blueprinted the world's first water-fabricated machine long ago, before this town even had a library. The design, and the necessity for it had been on my mind longer than most things. It was the weapon of the future economy. Back in my time in the future, EUV lithography was the standard for chip fabrication, and water-fabricated chips had dwindled, only the Chinese were still utilizing those machines.
If you had asked me before if I remembered every part, I would have said no. But since reinforcing my mind and constructing my Memory Palace, even the most obscure information buried deep within me has become accessible.
From processed glass to reinforced glass and beyond, the R&D required for this town was massive. It demanded a fortune to start, which is why I asked my company's investment heads to fund the project bit by bit. Initially, all seventeen directors were skeptical, the very concept of 'R&D' didn't exist to them. In 1900, if you owned a watch, you already possessed the most advanced piece of machinery in a rural town like Pasadena.
Every piece of machinery that exists in the world can be found in our town. While acquiring them is no easy feat, the challenge can be summarized in a single word: competition.
From the start, our town operated with a collective mindset. I couldn't just expect everyone here to wake up and suddenly be better at business, that would be stupidity. Instead, we worked together.
Fifteen years together was bound to leave a mark. I led them and taught them, and while they might not be destined to change the world, they gained the power to change their own lives. That's all I ever really wanted.
And change they did. We expanded into farming, pasturing, and milking, then built a paper mill and meat processing plants, among many other industries. At the start, this town had only eighty or so people, now, it has boomed to become one of the largest towns in the United States.
It wasn't long before the town grew into a city. Everything here is controlled by us, which is why many outsiders resent our tight grip. But what can they do? They can threaten us or ask the government to intervene, but I prepared for that. I instructed the townsfolk to assist the government the moment the world began to change. That political shield has kept us safe. Investors and power-seekers arrive hoping for a piece of us, but they always leave empty-handed.
We'll be safe for now, but I must draft new designs to protect us. The 21st century will bring challenges that traditional walls cannot stop, our survival depends on the blueprints I draw today.
****
I've been at this computer-building project for a month and a half. While I've successfully assembled the chip fabrication machine, the power it requires is massive, far beyond what the current electrical grid can provide. In my frustration, I realized I need an alternative: nuclear fission. The best part? The world currently has massive uranium deposits that I can process and use without anyone even noticing.
The only problem is that I have to build the seawater irrigation system myself. I can't let anyone know, not yet, anyway. I'm fortunate that I've learned how to use runes, I can reinforce the cave walls and make the water pipes much sturdier. With this, I won't have to worry about repairs or replacements every few years.
How did I dig the tunnels? Easy: a runic boring machine. The catch was that I could only use it every five minutes; the drain was so intense I felt like I was dying afterward. I kept this up for another fifteen days until I finally reached the shore. I angled the dig upward at the end, and at the bottom, I constructed a massive water storage chamber. Just reinforcing the walls alone nearly made me give up, it goes to show just how insane this project has become.
As I mentioned before, I already have water filtration and seawater desalination facilities, I just needed to connect them to my lab. Before doing so, I told Robin I'd be using the water, lest he wonder why the town's supply was disappearing. He eventually came to the lab to see my progress, but when he saw the massive scale of the cave and the complexity of the chip fabrication machine, he didn't say a word. He simply closed his eyes and backed out of the room. I was incredulous at his behavior.
Robin Pov
Robin felt a cold knot of vertigo in his stomach. He was a man of the 1900s he understood iron, he understood coal, and he understood the sweat of hard work. But this? This was like looking at a blueprint drawn by a god or a madman.
He realized in that moment that if he asked a single question, the answer would shatter his world. If he knew what that machine did, he could never go back to being a simple man of the town. He saw the scale of the cavern, the impossible geometry of the pipes, and the flickering screens.
He didn't want to know. He couldn't know.
Without a word, Robin squeezed his eyes shut, physically pushing the image out of his mind. He turned on his heel, the gravel crunching under his boots, and walked back toward the sunlight. If anyone asked about the water levels, he would tell them it was a leak. He would lie. He would do anything to avoid having to look at the future before he was ready to live in it.
Normal pov
maybe the kid scared the shit out of him when he saw chip facrication machine, heh not that i care much, i keep on building system in analog way, everything can't process automatically because i didnt have enough electricity to power the machine yet, that where stark come in.
The phone rings three times. A click, then the sound of a cocktail shaker in the background.
Howard: "Stark here. If this is the IRS, I'm in a meeting. If this is the Pentagon, tell them the flying sub is a month behind schedule because gravity is a stubborn mistress."
"It's me, Howard," I said to him. "How are you?"
Howard was shocked. "Is that you, James? I heard you died... how can you still be alive?"
"Is the agreement between us still in place, Howard?" I asked. "If it is, come here to Houston. I'll explain everything to you in person, but I won't discuss this over the phone."
Howard thought for about two seconds before agreeing. "Yes, it is, James."
"Then come. I will explain everything to you." I was truly looking forward to picking his brain.
Two days later.
I was waiting for Howard at the Pasadena airport. I'd heard he bought a plane and modified it to suit his needs, I suppose I don't need to explain what a 'Stark' he is. He looks at today's technology as if he's staring at something primitive.
I saw Stark walking with his entourage: one butler and a very striking Peggy Carter. That was a surprise, I never thought she would arrive on the scene this early. Seeing them together made me realize just how much the timeline was starting to shift.
Howard stood between James and Peggy, his eyes darting back and forth as the realization began to sink in. He looked at Peggy, who stood perfectly calm, her expression unreadable, and then back at James.
"You knew," Howard whispered, the betrayal stinging more than the shock. "Peggy... you've known for three years?"
Peggy adjusted her sleeve, her voice cool and professional. "James have his reason, and he make me promise never to tell anyone."
Howard let out a sharp, dry laugh, shaking his head.
James offered a small, tired smile. "Howard. Long time no see."
In all the years I'd known him, I knew Stark wasn't the hugging type, unless you were a woman. Instead, he just stood there, eyes scanning me.
"Well, Stark, I can explain everything. Come, let's go to my house." I gestured toward the car, inviting them inside so I could bring them to my residence.
As we drove toward my home, Peggy, Stark, and his butler, Jarvis, couldn't stop looking around. Pasadena had been the talk of the country for the last sixty years, and as they took in the sights, they finally understood why.
The roads were designed for a future that hadn't arrived yet. Each street featured two wide lanes in both directions, flanked by parking lots built to accommodate a massive influx of automobiles. To Howard and Peggy, it must have looked like a ghost city waiting for its inhabitants to catch up with the technology.
The buildings here were designed by the students at the University of Houston, the city essentially became their playground. I let them design to their hearts' content, and it shows. The skyline keeps reaching higher, anchored by the Houston Investment Company, a staggering 25-floor tower that dominates the horizon.
While Houston remains under U.S. jurisdiction, the land itself does not. We bought out this territory years ago when the American government was desperate for war funds. The town of Pasadena alone is now as large as Brooklyn, and because we own the deed, we operate under our own rules.
That is why no one can force us off this land. This was one of my many blueprints: a plan to create a fortress of sovereignty to protect everyone living here.
Unless the government is willing to commit mass murder, we aren't going anywhere. This town is a manufacturing powerhouse, we produce the essential goods the rest of the world relies on. We've made ourselves indispensable.
I'm going to dedicate some of my time to the supermarket project. We've already built a small mall by inviting several major American brands to set up shop here. It's become incredibly lively, the town feels more like a 21st-century city every day.
Since Stark has one of the most recognizable faces in the country, I didn't want anyone to see us together. I drove them straight to my house at the edge of town, where my mountain sits. The estate is vast, surrounded by a cluster of mansions belonging to my inner circle, the people who keep this city running.
When we arrived at the parking area beneath my house, I drove the car directly into the lift. The heavy doors sealed shut, and the elevator began to descend, carrying us deep into the heart of my underground lab.
Everyone in the car was impressed, Stark included. He didn't have an underground lab of his own; the last time he had worked in a subterranean facility was during his time with the SSR. Seeing this a private lab that outclassed a government military installation.
"Is it cool, Stark?" I asked, giving him a small smile while my eyebrows danced up and down.
Stark shot me a look of pure annoyance. "Cocky now, are we?" I just kept that small smile on my face.
"Welcome to my lab, everyone," I said as we approached the entrance. As we stepped toward the glass doors, they slid open automatically, whispering into the walls to let us through.
"What is this lab, James?" Peggy asked, her voice filled with genuine curiosity. Despite our years of working together to keep his secret, this was a side of the project I had never revealed to her until now.
"This is my lab," I explained as we walked, my voice echoing slightly against the reinforced walls. "Twenty years ago, the ground beneath your feet was an active mine. Once it was tapped out, I acquired the site and redesigned the entire subterranean network to serve as my sanctuary."
Then, they saw it: a massive steel structure, as large as a house and longer than anything they had ever encountered. It didn't resemble any machine of their era; it was sleek, seamless, and completely alien to their eyes. Even Howard, who had seen the best of the SSR's designs, stood frozen before it.
"What is that, James?" Stark asked, his voice hushed with genuine curiosity. He walked toward the massive steel housing, his hands twitching as if he were already trying to take it apart in his mind.
"That, Stark, is the future," I said, my voice steady as I looked at the massive machine. "This is a Chip Fabrication Machine. It's the heart of everything I've built."
"A chip fabrication machine this big? What kind of chips are you building, James, that you need a machine of this scale?" Stark's eyes were wide as he finally saw through my money-flaunting act and realized the true purpose of my wealth.
"Hahaha! I know you probably thought I was just wasting my money, but I'm going to show you exactly what I've been building. Follow me." I led them to the front of my 'supercomputer.' I had designed the external casing to be as large as the Turing machine in the back, the one that never stops shuffling.
"Is that a Turing machine, James?" Peggy asked. Of course, she knew exactly what it was, her government had used that very technology to win a World War. But here, in 1940, seeing it being use was almost impossible to process, "What are you using this machine for?"
"Yes, Peggy, that is a Turing machine," I answered calmly, "I use it to scramble the Telephone signal"
"Where did you get this, James?" Her eyes narrowed. After all, this was a highly classified project. "You used a highly classified machine to scramble a phone signal? Are you mad?"
"Did you forget what I did before we met?" I answered, as if that were the only answer she needed. "I saw the schematics when I met Alan Turing and his group of decoders. I was the one who sent them the codes the Nazis were using to communicate, And i build it for my family use".
"What? How?! That's impossible! Don't tell me you saw it once and remembered everything?" Peggy was shocked. She was hearing something that defied every law of human capability.
"Do you have a photographic memory, James?" Stark interjected.
"Yes to you," I tell Peggy, then turn to Stark. "No to you."
"I use this to give myself a photographic memory," I say, showing the Sanguine Cipher to the three guests. Stark's mouth is wide open, Peggy looks shocked, and Jarvis just watches.
"Magic? You're really telling me that you learned magic, James?" Stark didn't believe it one bit.
"You saw someone become a super-soldier from a bottle, and you don't believe in magic, Stark?" I smirked at him.
"That's different, James, and you know it. Magic was just a concept of science people used when someone did the impossible, an expression, not literal magic like this!"
"Well, I learned this in Tibet," I said with a smile. "My master was already a thousand years old when I met him or rather, when he met me." A reminiscent expression crossed my face.
"A thousand years old, James? You really brought me here to tell me fairy tales?" Stark really felt like I was playing him, while Peggy didn't look surprised because she knew what I was. Jarvis maintained his stoic expression.
"Peggy, please help," I said, effectively handing her the responsibility of explaining my situation to Howard.
30 minute later.
"Okay, James, I understand. What help do you need now?" Shock was one thing, but Stark really wanted to see what I had built so much so that I was the one asking him for help.
"It's here, Stark," I said as we walked deeper inside. The surrounding area was massive, and the room was filled with the water I needed for this fission reactor.
"Is that what I think it is, James?" Stark was currently building a reactor based on Arc technology, but I had gone in a completely different direction. "Are you telling me that you're building a fission reactor?"
Peggy kept getting one shock after another today. I was using a machine meant to save the world as a simple phone signal scrambler, like it was a mere pet project. And now this. She looked like she didn't want to care anymore but then I saw Jarvis's expression for the first time. Was that shock I saw? I just smiled.
"Only something he truly understands could get a reaction from him." It was such a good mentality, I thought.
"Yes, Stark. I've already built everything. The container itself can withstand three atomic bombs exploding inside." Well, I finally had something to brag about.
Stark didn't care anymore. "Let's get started," he said. He just wanted to be done with it.
Peggy went to visit the town, leaving only Howard and me down here. Jarvis occasionally came down to bring Stark whatever he needed.
After three weeks of hard work, the fission reactor was finished. By the fourth week, I had created a device to transfer the energy to my chip fabrication machine. When the machine began to hum, Stark and I celebrated with a high-five.
He watched as I created a new chip, the process was set to 200 nanometers, which was enough for my needs. I built everything, the memory storage, the RAM, and the screen. When the computer lit up, Stark was fascinated by this supercomputer I'd named 'Coin-It.
He asked what I planned to do with it, and I told him I could do anything, I could process as much data as ten people per second. That really fired him up, and he asked me to build him one, too. I agreed. When everything was finally done, Peggy, Howard, and Jarvis left, leaving me alone in the lab to fine-tune the system.
I have a meeting to get to in a week.
To be continued -
next chapter 27/2